


In the Dying Light

by Rosewood_Writes



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Fluffy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, M/M, Mild Blood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-26
Updated: 2018-11-26
Packaged: 2019-08-29 22:55:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16753018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rosewood_Writes/pseuds/Rosewood_Writes
Summary: Dorian takes a blow for Assan, and barely lives to tell the tale.





	In the Dying Light

“Say their names again, Amatus.”  
“I’ve already said them twice, ma vhenan”  
“One more time?”  
Assan smiled softly, “This tree is for Mathalin. He was believed to be the first of the Emerald Knights. And that one is Briathos, protector of the Dales. Then there is Vaharel, Elnora, Ralaferin...”  
Dorian hummed contentedly as Assan went on, listing off the names of the knights on the memorials. His nimble, bony fingers teased through Dorian’s hair as he spoke, lulling him half to sleep. It was nice to have a moment of calm with him. They were far between these days.  
The area had been too dangerous during the day to explore. Giants roamed the forest by day, gathering up food and lumbering about aimlessly. But, by evening, they retreated to their caves and camps, leaving the glade safe to explore by moonlight.  
Assan seemed drawn to the area. When they had first reached the grove, he had walked slowly, kneeling before every tree, saying prayers of respect to the dead, brushing every trunk with his hand as he passed. To see him so amazed, so enthralled made Dorian’s heart flutter. It was good to see him happy for once. For too long it seemed all he did was frown with worry about everything; the fate of the inquisition, Corypheus, the threat on the empress’ life that was looming over them.  
Dorian…  
Assan’s voice faded slightly, mixing with a rush of others, muttering rapidly to each other. Something about an antidote?  
Dorian!  
The canopy above blurred. Assan’s face came into focus again, but this time he looked scared. The trees looked different now---taller and farther away. Everything swayed in and out of focus. Where was he?  
“Fenedis, isn’t there more you can do?” Assan snapped. “He’s dying!”  
“I’ve already administered the antidote, Inquisitor. Now it is up to him.”  
A horrid burning started in his chest, like acid eating at his flesh. Dorian closed his eyes, sure that it was a dream. He wanted to wake up, to hear Assan’s voice roll thick in the Dalish tongue. But he did not wake up from any dream.  
The burning remained, and the voices became clearer. The music of his lover’s voice was no longer sweet, but sharp and panicked. He heard screaming; awful, chilling screams of agony. It took him a minute to realize that they were his own.  
“You can’t stop the bleeding? He’s lost enough blood as it is!”  
“The antidote has to take effect. The venom thins the blood. Once the antidote kicks in, then we can start the healing process. I can’t risk sealing any of the toxin away. That would kill him without question. The demon’s venom must run its course.”  
“Mythal’s mercy, Solas we don’t have time to wait! Listen to him!”  
“The fact that he is alive right now is a good sign, Lethallin. I have done all that I can for now.”  
He could hear Assan cursing. With strained effort he turned his head to see him better. He was pacing in circles, his brow furrowed in a deep frown. His cheeks were flushed red, as were the tips of his ears. For a second, Dorian thought he saw tears. His face was bruised and blooded on one side.  
The pain continued to intensify. It felt like his flesh was melting to his bones. Dorian clawed at the ground, feeling his voice crack from screaming so. Eventually, he passed out, overwhelmed from agony.

 

Dorian awoke some odd hours late. The tent was quiet. He could hear a fire crackling outside. The burning in his chest had subsided mostly, leaving behind an uncomfortable heat to his skin. His head was swimming, pulsing deeply with every beat of his heart. With a weary groan he laid his head back down and closed his eyes. Maker, what a nasty headache, he thought to himself.  
“Vhenan?”  
Dorian opened his again. Assan stood over him, his eyes bloodshot. His face was covered in cuts and bruises. Blood crusted around his nostrils, and his nose seemed slightly out of place. Or well, more out of place than usual. Months of non stop fighting had warped Assan’s once straight nose. Not that Dorian minded the slight curve and bulge; it added character to his face.  
With effort, Dorian lifted a hand up and brushed his thumb against his lover’s cheek. Assan’s expression seemed somewhere between delight and anguish. Were he not exhausted and sore, Dorian would have been more concerned about the state of his nails. They were caked in blood and dirt, likely from gouging the ground in agony. He decided it was better to focus on Assan instead.  
“Amatus,” He whispered.  
“I was beginning to think you were going to die,” Assan planted several slow kisses to his forehead. “Creators, I was so scared.”  
“I’m too perfect to die,” Dorian forced a choked, quiet laugh. His throat was still raw and hoarse. In his own opinion, he sounded more akin to a dying toad than an actually person.  
Assan chuckled weakly, “Never, and I mean never do that stupid stunt again.”  
“Save your life? How ungrateful of you,” Dorian pouted.  
“Dorian, you almost died,” Assan’s smile faded. “You’ve been in and out of consciousness for almost two days now. Even Solas wasn’t sure if you would live or not.”  
Dorian pulled his lover’s head closer. His memory of the fight was hazy now. He remembered the giant terror demon, how it had killed three soldiers and almost got to Assan had he not pushed him to safety. Granted, his act of heroism had resulted in several sharp talons ripping through his chest like soft cheese. Venomous talons, no less.  
“Well, you can’t really blame me for repaying a debt. You did the same for me back in Crestwood remember? Leaping in front of that terror to save my life,” Dorian said. “I couldn’t have you outdo me. That would ruin my reputation.”  
Assan laughed a little bit louder, “Well, we can’t have that.”  
Dorian shook his head, “We most certainly can’t.”  
With a relieved sigh, Assan pressed his forehead against Dorian’s. He sat there for a moment, running his fingers gently through his hair. It was obvious Assan was still worried. But as the moments passed, Dorian could feel his head clearing. He was fine, for now.  
“You said I’ve been asleep for how long now?”  
“Almost two days; we were able to get you back to one of our camps before the venom had fully set in. You were hysterical by then, just kept screaming for hours. Whether it was from pain or delusion from the venom I don’t know.  
“Once you stopped screaming, you just kept slipping in and out of semi-consciousness. You would just barely open your eyes and look around before slipping away again. Solas told me that it would pass, but I was losing hope,” Assan kissed him. “I’m glad you’re alright.”  
“Has anything happened while I was taking my little nap?”  
“No, the Jaws of Hakkon have been quiet since we broke their ranks on the river. We have proven to be a force worthy of a more cautious approach,” Assan said. “Once you are well enough to ride, we are heading out to meet with these ‘friendly’ Avaar.”  
“Can you do me a favor, Amatus?”  
“Hmm?”  
“Fetch me something to eat? I’m starving.”


End file.
